


Simple Joys

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Back Massages Are Gay Culture, Character Study, Getting Together, Human!Q, M/M, So Is Horseback Riding, Star Trek Reverse Big Bang 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 07:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19313128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Newly human, Q struggles to find his place in the Enterprise. Picard helps him learn what it really means to be human.





	Simple Joys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spocko_My_Man](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spocko_My_Man/gifts).



> This is my fic for the STRBB2k19! It was based on the artwork “Robe” by bowie-star-trekking on Tumblr, which you can check at this link!: https://bowie-star-trekking.tumblr.com/post/185765357513/star-trek-rev-big-bang-entry-19-robe-qcard (It’s really beautiful)

Having Q aboard was...an adjustment, to say the least.

Picard felt at his wit’s end with the ex-omnipotent entity. The _Enterprise_ was a round hole, and Q was a square peg. If the poor thing (a term Picard _never_ thought he’d ascribed to Q of all people...was Q technically a person?) wasn’t so helpless without his powers, Picard would have him dropped off at the next space station to fend for himself. A part of him was still considering it.

Q didn’t particularly get along with anyone on board. He openly antagonized Worf, and Riker still hadn’t forgotten the incident at Quadra Sigma. He was driving Dr. Crusher to insanity with constant visits (probably too polite a word to describe them; _intrusions_ was more appropriate) to the sickbay, claiming to be dying at the slightest inconvenience to his new human body. Often the problem was highly exaggerated (“It’s just a stubbed toe, Q.”...“You’re _hungry_ , Q.”...“It’s been _how long_ since you’ve been to the bathroom?!”). It was all anyone on board could do to keep Q and Guinan apart for fear they’d tear each other to shreds. And Troi and La Forge, kind-hearted as they were, could only be patient with the overgrown child for so long. Luckily for everyone, Q seemed to gravitate toward Data— who, thankfully, wasn’t programmed to feel aggravation.

But it was more than that. Q just didn’t seem to be able to _do_ anything. Even Lieutenant Barclay, as much as he rubbed people the wrong way, excelled at engineering. And Wesley, as grating as Picard found him on occasion, had a brilliant mind that helped the crew run the ship a lot smoother. But Q? Q was a helpless babe in the woods, in every endeavor.

The weeks of Q trying out different crew roles were like a montage in a romantic comedy from the ancient late 20th century of a girl trying on different outfits for a date. Except there was no bouncy music or light-hearted humor. Just growing irritation from all parties. He knew nothing about ship maintenance, and after the third near explosion of the warp core, Commander La Forge respectfully but firmly told Picard that Q was banned from the engineering section “indefinitely.” The science department was no better. Q accidentally spilled growth hormone onto a slime mold, which overtook and almost destroyed Deck 17. Medicine didn’t seem to be Q’s forte either. All that knowledge gained over millennia of existing and basic anatomy didn’t seem to be among any of it. Q didn’t even know what a pancreas was.

Picard wasn’t even going to entertain the notion of setting him up in Security. He’d have to be an idiot to willingly put a weapon in the hands of an already loose cannon.

To his credit, Q did seem to get along well with the children on the _Enterprise_ for a while. Maybe it was because he was so like a child himself. But then, after two blessed weeks of peace, Keiko Ishikawa fired him from the school after Q revealed to the children that not only was Santa real, but also that he had been a Q himself, and that he didn’t care anything about Earth children, certainly not enough to bring them toys; that would be ridiculous. Picard had to personally apologize to six different parents of sobbing, heartbroken children over that one.

“Well it’s hardly my fault, _mon capitaine_!” Q had shrugged. “You humans coddle your offspring’s delusions far too much. Why, when I was 6000, I was already creating my first universal constant!”

“They’re not 6000, they’re _6!_ ” Picard snapped back.

“Exactly! The age of 6 in ratio to a life expectancy of 130 or so is far more mature than 6000 is to, well...infinity. So really, there’s no excuse in their stunted development.” Q fixed Picard with a stare. “Besides, from what I’ve observed, your own relationship with the young is dismal to say the least. I suppose it’s a miracle you never sired any yourself.”

Picard glared at him. “That is _not_ what I called you into my ready room to discuss.”

Q sighed, flopping backward onto Picard’s couch. “But ship’s business is _dull!_ ” he huffed dramatically. “I’d much rather gossip! The schoolteacher and the transporter man, how long do you think that’s going to last? I give it a month tops.”

“Q,” said Picard sternly. “The _Enterprise_ is not a luxury cruise liner. This is a Starfleet vessel. We conduct diplomatic meetings, partake in scientific experimentation, and, when the situation demands, engage in military warfare.”

“Now wouldn’t _that_ be exciting,” Q said, eyes lighting up. “Oh, if only I had my powers. I could summon up a battalion of Romulan warbirds. Now _that_ would be entertaining!”

Picard sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Q...I think you’ve yet to grasp what being human _means._ You chose this form, this ship, to begin your new life, because you thought our lives were non-stop adventure. Well, in a way, they are. But not the extreme level you think they are. You see, before when you visited us, things were exciting and dramatic because _you_ were there.”

Q smirked. “You find me exciting, Jean-Luc?”

Picard’s cheeks heated up. “That...wasn’t exactly how I put it. The point is, sometimes...sometimes human life isn’t about the spectacular. Sometimes the things that can _seem_ mediocre can be just as wonderful. Reading a good book, listening to music, drinking a cup of tea. These...simple joys are what humans find fulfilling.”

Q frowned in confusion. “It sounds dreadfully dreary. You actually _live_ like this, _mon capitaine?_ ”

“I thrive on it,” Picard said with a smile. “After a tiring mission, I love nothing more than returning to my cabin, putting on my most comfortable robe, reading a book, and taking a warm bath.”

“For how long?”

“Two hours, three.”

“ _Three?!_ ” squawked Q. “I can barely sit still for three minutes, much less three torturous hours! Oh, you humans are lucky you have such short lifespans. You have no idea what to do with them. You’re all just idling away, killing time till it kills you.”

“That’s a rather morbid way of looking at it,” said Picard, slightly perturbed. “Look, I’ll prove it to you. Meet me at Holodeck 3 tomorrow at 1100 hours. I’ll show you the simple joys are worthwhile.”

The evil glint returned to Q’s eye. “Why, _mon capitaine_...that sounds like a _date._ ”

Picard’s eyes widened. “No! No dates! I mean...” Picard cleared his throat, pulling down the front of his uniform. “It’s an exercise in being human. Nothing more.”

“You are my teacher, and I am but your humble student.” Q bowed mockingly to him. “Am I dismissed, o wise mentor?”

Picard rolled his eyes. “Oh, get out of here. And _try_ not to destroy anything else till tomorrow, would you?”

“For you, Jean-Luc, _anything_.” Q smirked and let himself out.

Picard rubbed his forehead again. “What have I signed myself up for?” he groaned to himself.

* * *

Picard arrived in his riding clothes at the Holodeck 3 to find Q awaiting him. “Look at me, I’m _early_ ,” bragged Q. “My sense of linear time really has improved since my becoming human.”

“Yes, well done,” said Picard, suppressing an eye roll, since it seemed like this tiny achievement was something Q was genuinely proud of, and why discourage progress?

Q eyed Picard’s ensemble. “What on Melllvar are you wearing? Why are your boots so long? Is it to make your legs look shorter?”

“No, it’s—wait, my legs don’t look...” Picard scowled. “They are _riding boots_ , Q. You and I are going horseback riding.”

“Why ride horses when you have an entire _starship_ to navigate about the cosmos?” said Q, mystified. “Horses can only travel in two dimensions, and at such slow speeds! I thought you humans liked to go _fast,_ like that silly blue hedgehog young Wesley showed me.”

“It’s for _fun_ , Q. Remember, simple joys?”

“Yes,” sighed Q. “ _Simple_ indeed.”

“Now.” Picard handed Q a garment bag. “Here’s your outfit. Go change into it. I’ll wait.”

After several minutes, Q returned in an outfit similar to Picard’s: fit denim jeans tucked into knee length leather boots, a buttoned up white shirt, and a grey blazer. “You wear these clothes on _purpose?_ ” Q said, tugging at his neck. “No wonder you’re such a stick in the mud. At least you look pleasing enough.”

Picard’s cheeks heated up at that. “Er, thank you,” he muttered. “Well, come on then. We’re burning daylight.”

“What do you mean? We’re in the middle of space, nowhere near a sun.”

Picard closed his eyes. “It’s an expression, Q. It means time is moving forward.”

“Well of course it’s moving forward. You’re a linear being. You can’t move in any other direction.”

“Never mind! Just...” Picard sighed and turned to the touchpad next to the holodeck doors. “Computer, holoprogram Picard 3.”

The doors opens slid open and Picard ushered Q inside. Inside the holodeck, it was a sunny day on a ranch somewhere in Montana, the United States, Earth. “You know,” said Q, looking around as the holodeck doors closed behind him, “I must give you humans credit where credit is due. These holodecks you’ve dreamt up to live out your little fantasies really are quite something. You may not have the power of the Q, but you lot really are an indomitable people.”

Picard looked at him in surprise. “Why Q, I believe that’s the first nice thing you’ve said about humanity in all the time I’ve known you.”

Q smirked. “I may not have my abilities anymore, but it is nice to know that I can still amaze you at times.”

Picard snorted with laughter. “We may just make a human of you yet. Come on, then. Our mounts are this way.” He led Q across the vast field toward the barn.

Half a dozen or so horses were waiting in the stalls. “Pick your ride,” Picard said, choosing a handsome roan for himself.

“Ugh,” Q said, wrinkling his nose. “I rescind my previous compliment on the invention of the holodeck. They’re far too devoted to realism. I can practically taste the horse excrement.”

“We’ll only be here for a minute,” chuckled Picard, throwing his saddle over the roan’s back. “Made a decision yet?”

Q looked around and pointed to a black steed. “That one.”

“Alright.” Picard led the horse out and laid a blanket over its back, then applied the saddle and bridle. “Alright,” he said again. “Now, try and swing yourself up into the saddle.”

Q somewhat clumsily stepped into the foothold and swung his leg up over the horse’s back. The steed made a soft rumble, but obediently held still as Q settled into place.

“Good thing you got stuck with a tall body, otherwise we might have had to materialize a stepladder,” Picard said a chuckle. He pulled himself up onto his own mount and said, “Now, directing a horse is fairly simple. Gently whip the reins to make him move forward, pull back to make him slow down or stop. Never _ever_ jerk or yank the reins hard, it’ll unsettle the horse and you could get bucked off. Always remain calm--you must show the horse you trust him.”

“But I _don’t_ trust this beast,” Q retorted. “I’m completely at its mercy. It’s a mindless animal.”

“That’s not true at all,” Picard replied. He pet the long crest of his own horse, and the roan whined appreciatively. “These are intelligent beings. The symbiosis between man and horse is almost as old as humanity itself. You may think they’re simple, but they can be quite brilliant when you give them a chance. It’s about communication, and trust. Compromise. Showing that you can work together. If each side is willing to show patience, they can form an ineffable team.”

Q studied him for a moment, then opened his mouth. “Jean-Luc, I think you should know...I detest metaphors.”

Picard rolled his eyes. “Come on then.” He clicked his tongue, and the roan started at a leisurely trot. Q mimicked him, and the black steed followed after him.

The simulated sunshine shone warm on their heads and shoulders as they rode through the pasture. The air smelled sweet when they emerged from the stables. Picard took a deep breath and smiled. “You seem relaxed,” Q said as his mount pulled up beside his. “Is this one of the simple joys you were talking about?”

“Yes,” Picard replied.

Q hummed thoughtfully. “Well I’ve never seen you this...unclenched. So it must be good for you.”

“Horseback riding might not be the past time for you, but there’s plenty of activities to explore. Data paints. Dr. Crusher tap-dances. Riker plays the trumpet.”

“I thought the good Commander’s hobby of choice was sexual congress.”

Picard couldn’t keep from letting out a snort of laughter. He cleared his throat and frowned. “That’s not polite, Q.”

“You still laughed,” Q pointed out smugly.

Picard gave him a half-heartedly reproachful glare. He took in the still fairly new human. The way the artificial sunlight bounced off his hair was intriguing, especially when the breeze was rippling through it. It looked soft and fine--Picard wondered whether it felt the way it looked.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Picard blinked and looked away. “I wasn’t. That is...I just got lost in thought.”

“Thought about what?”

Picard pursed his lips. “Sometimes I wonder...why _did_ you choose to be a human?”

“I told you--I’m rather fond of you Enterprisers. I’ve come to think of you as...” Q struggled for the right word.

“...friends?” Picard offered with a small smile.

Q frowned. “I think... _pets_ would be a more accurate term. But...I suppose _friends_ is applicable as well.” He smiled reluctantly.

“Did you have friends in the Continuum?” Picard asked curiously.

Q sighed. “ _Friendship_ was unheard of in the Continuum,” he said with an aristocratic sniff. “We were higher beings...above all that need for companionship and intimacy.” A far away look appeared in his eyes. “We were like steam on the wind...untouchable, always in flux. Hot and cold and every state of being in between. We were like the puzzle pieces of reality, only we had no matches, no spots where we fit. We were the cornerstones of life itself.”

“That sounds...profoundly lonely,” Picard said, suddenly understanding Q a lot more.

Q looked sorrowful for a moment, then shrugged. “I suppose it would to a being like you.”

“And you chose us...because you wanted friends,” said Picard.

Q frowned at him. “I’ve never wanted for _friends_ in my life,” he scoffed. “I wouldn’t be so base as to _pine_ for company.”

“Everyone needs someone, Q,” Picard argued. “It’s only-”

“ _Don’t_ say it!”

“- _human_.”

“How dare you!” Q exclaimed.

“But it’s what you are now, Q. You have to accept that _human_ isn’t a dirty word.”

Q scowled at Picard. “You know what? I’m tired of riding these stinking beasts. I think I’d rather go swimming instead. Computer, change holodeck program to a swimming pool.”

“No, _wait!_ ” Picard shouted.

Suddenly the scenery around them changed, and the horses disappeared out from under them. Q and Picard fell from midair into a pool of water, sending up two great splashes.

“ _Q!_ ” Picard roared angrily, sloshing about angrily in the water. “These boots are authentic Bolian leather! They’re ruined!”

“Replicate yourself some new ones,” Q grumbled, swimming toward the ladder. He pulled himself out of the water and barked, “Doors!”

The holodeck arch appeared, and Q stomped out into the ship’s corridor, sopping wet.

Picard hovered in the water, watching him go. He sighed heavily, wiping the water droplets from his face.

* * *

After drying off and changing into his uniform, Picard reported for duty and relieved Data. He sat stonily in his chair, staring into the black void on the viewscreen, faint white streaks flashing past as they chugged along at full impulse through the quadrant. There had been rumors of Romulan activity in this sector, but Picard doubted there was any real threat. The Romulans were smart enough to stay on their side of the Neutral Zone. They certainly wouldn’t get this close to Federation space. Picard was too disgruntled from his and Q’s not-a-date in the holodeck anyway. He spent most of the shift zoned out, which one of the crew took note of.

“Captain?”

Picard realized the counselor had been saying his name for the past minute. He blinked. “I’m sorry, what is it?”

“Can we speak in private?” Troi asked.

Picard nodded. “Of course. Number One, you have the conn.” He and Troi stood and went into the ready room. “What can I do for you?” Picard asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Troi said. “I’ve been sensing tension from you ever since beta shift began. Is everything alright?”

Picard sighed wearily. “Not really.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Picard, surrendered, gesturing to his couch. “It’s Q,” he said as the counselor took a seat.

“I had a feeling,” Troi said with a sympathetic smile. “He hasn’t really found his niche on this ship, has he?”

“No, and frankly, I’m out of ideas,” said Picard. “Q is too restless, too impatient. Today I took him riding in the holodeck to _try_ to open him up to just taking life as it comes, not trying to force everything at once. But he got frustrated with me and stormed out.”

“What did you say?” Troi asked.

“I called him human,” said Picard. “He didn’t like that very much.”

Troi hummed thoughtfully. “He likes humans, though. At least, he likes us. Maybe...he doesn’t really feel like one of us yet. He’s still very much an outsider. He’s used to seeing himself as sort of a...guardian angel for our kind-”

Picard snorted.

“I didn’t say it was an accurate description,” Troi said with a smile. “But just think of it from his point of view.”

“I’ve tried,” Picard groaned, sitting beside her and rubbing his temples. “I’ve given Q all of my patience and then some.”

“I know,” Troi said. “And frankly, you don’t owe him anything else. It’s up to Q to prove himself as willing to meet you halfway. That’s what relationships are about.”

Picard looked up. “Relationship?”

Troi’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I didn’t mean it like that, necessarily,” she said, chuckling softly. “Why, are you...”

Picard sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’d...be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well. How does he feel?”

“He flirts with me. But you know Q—he’s a bratty child.”

“At times,” Troi allowed. “But from what I’ve seen, he’s also capable of great humanity at times, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He was willing to sacrifice himself to save the _Enterprise_.”

“Are you actually encouraging me to give Q a try?” Picard said incredulously.

Troi shrugged, smiling playfully. “When’s the last time you really let yourself connect with someone like that?” she pointed out. “I think Q could be good for you. He could help you become less...rigid.”

“Does everyone think I’d a fuddy-duddy stuffed shirt?” Picard scoffed.

“Not at all. But you do seem...solitary at times. Maybe that’s just what comes from being a Captain. But Q’s not in Starfleet—technically you don’t command him.” Troi smiled knowingly. “Just something to think about.”

Picard thought about how he’d commented on the inherent loneliness of the Continuum members. Maybe that was why Q gravitated toward lesser beings—toward him. Maybe Q could sense...a kindredness there. Picard had never really thought about it before.

Picard looked up at Troi. “Thank you, Counselor. I feel...a lot better now.”

Troi rose. “Don’t lose hope, Captain. Q may still come around and adjust to human life. Only time will tell.” She turned and exited the ready room.

Picard was left sitting there for a while, deep in thought.

* * *

Data, now off duty, entered Ten Forward, when he spotted Q sitting glumly at the bar, 10 melting banana splits lined up before him. “Are you in another ‘really bad mood’?” Data asked him, sliding onto a stool beside him.

“Yes,” huffed Q.

Data looked around. “Are you not afraid you will encounter Guinan?”

“This is her day off,” Q said. “Which is a small victory. I’m really not in the mood to verbally spar with her today.”

“May I inquire as to what you are upset about?”

Q sighed dramatically. “Jean-Luc...I mean _the Captain_ and I have had a row.”

“What was the source of the dispute?” Data asked.

“I ruined the Captain’s boots.”

“I am surprised the Captain would get so upset about a material object.”

“Well...maybe that’s not the real reason he got angry with me,” Q admitted. “I have this...strange feeling. Oh Data, you’re my emotional guru. Tell me what I’m feeling.”

“Logic would dictate that it is hunger, which can be deduced by the amount of confections you have ordered.”

“No, no, I’ve learned to identify hunger. No, I think it’s a psychological emotion.”

“Are you angry at the Captain?”

“Not...precisely? It feels more aimed at myself than at him. It feels... _bad_.”

Data processed for a moment. Then his yellow eyes lit up. “Guilt! You are experiencing guilt. You feel guilty.”

“Guilty, what’s that?”

“Guilty, adjective: culpable of or responsible for a wrongdoing. The feeling of guilt is often ascribed to one’s conscience, or moral compass. You feel guilty for your fight with the Captain.”

“Ugh, _guilt_ , _conscience_...why did I ever think being a human was a smart idea?!” Q exclaimed. “I don’t suppose you have ever experienced guilt, have you, Data.”

“I am not programmed to do harm, therefore I have no need of a conscience. However, I am capable of error, and I have experienced regret for them. Once, Geordi became frustrated with me because I solved the mystery too fast when he and I were playing out a Sherlock Holmes holonovel, and his agitation toward me was unpleasant. So in my own way, I have experienced guilt.”

Q raised an eyebrow at him. “So what did you do to expel that feeling of unpleasantness?”

“I attempted to devise a holoprogram of a mystery whose solution I did not know, so that both Geordi and myself could experience solving the mystery together.”

“So what you’re saying is...when you make someone unhappy, you should do something for them to make them happy again?” Q concluded.

“That is a logical course of action.”

“And you’re sure that will repair the relationship between myself and Jean-Luc?”

“Well, I do not know for certain. But you can at least try.”

Q got up from his seat. “Thank you, Data. You’ve been helpful as ever.” He dashed from Ten Forward, leaving ten sticky dishes of melted ice cream and banana for the disgruntled bar staff to clean up.

* * *

It was late, and Picard was getting ready for bed. He’d just exited the sonic shower. He pulled his soft grey robe on over himself and was about to settle into bed with _Metamorphosis_  by Kafka when an alert sounded that someone was at his door. “Enter?” he said, pulling his robe tighter to his chest.

The doors to his suite slid open and Q stepped inside. “Q,” said Picard, feeling his face flush. “It’s awfully late.”

“I know,” said Q, in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice. “It’s an intrusion, I know, but...the way our holodate-”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“-ended left me... _feeling_.”

Picard blinked at him. “Feeling...what?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never felt this way before, but it’s...awful. Worse than hungry or itchy, but not as bad as constipated.”

Picard rolled his eyes. “Perhaps you should go to the sickbay then.”

“No, I don’t think it’s medical. I think what I’m feeling is...guilt?”

“Guilt?” said Picard, eyebrows rising.

“Yes. Definitely guilt. And I want to say that...I’m sorry. You were being kind to me when I...to be completely honest, have done nothing really to garner it, and...I behaved badly. Well, I behaved worse than usual, anyway. And...I’m sorry,” said Q, his eyes turned down.

Picard was bowled over. Never before had he seen Q so... _sincere_. Or humble. In fact this was the first real time Picard could see that humanity in Q Troi had been talking about. “Did Counselor Troi send you here to say that?” he asked.

Q looked confused. “No. Why?”

Picard smiled. “Never mind. Q...I forgive you.”

Q looked up. “You do?” he said, shocked.

“Yes, I do.”

“Why...it’s that easy?”

“Well, you didn’t do anything _that_ heinous. _This_ time,” Picard said, teasing him gently.

Q frowned. “But I still feel... _guilty_. Why is that?”

“Maybe you feel you need to make amends?”

“But I just did. I said I was sorry, unprompted. Which is a big step for me!”

“I agree. But sometimes saying sorry is only one part of it. Sometimes people feel the need to make a gesture along with the apology.”

“Is that what you require?” said Q.

“No, Q, you don’t have to do anything for me-”

“No, no, I want to,” Q insisted. “And not just to get rid of this feeling. But because...” he pursed his lips, struggling for words. “It’s another feeling. I can’t quite name it.”

Picard’s cheeks lit up—he thought he might be able to put a name to Q’s emotion, though he wasn’t going to say it out loud. He fought back a smile, biting his bottom lip. “It’s alright, really,” he reassured him.

“No, please, I...you like tea. I can get you tea. No, wait, you could do that yourself, that’s not enough. I can...get you new boots! Except I don’t have any money.”

“Q-”

“No, no, I _will_ get this right!” Q exclaimed.

Picard smiled. Q didn’t realize he was giving Picard exactly what he wanted right now—proof that he was willing to make an effort. Suddenly his back twinged, and Picard let out a small groan.

Q looked up. “What is it?”

Picard shook his head, arching his spine slightly. “Little discomfort in my back. Probably twisted something when we were riding.”

Q’s eyes widened. “You’re injured? Are you dying? Is it a tumor, I’ve heard those are quite serious. Or kidney stones? No, Braxton-Hicks!”

“Q, I’m not pregnant,” Picard chortled. “It’s not serious. It’s just a little muscle strain, nothing more.”

“Oh. Is that all? I can help you with that.” Q strode across the room, turning Picard and standing behind him.

“What are you doing?” Something soft landed at Picard’s bare feet--Q’s shirt. “Are you getting _naked?_ What are you doing?!”

“ _Relax, mon capitaine_ ,” said Q quellingly. “I massage better with my arms unencumbered by fabric. I won’t offend your precious modesty.” Picard could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Massage, what do you mean-” Strong hands clamped onto his shoulders and began to rub. “Oh,” Picard exhaled, eyelids fluttering shut. “Oh my...that is...”

“Once when I was 4000, I took a Vulcan shiatsu class for a lark. I came to understand why hands are sacred in their culture,” Q said brightly, working his thumbs between Picard’s shoulder blades. “My goodness but you’re tense. I think the responsibilities of a Captain put you under too much strain, Jean-Luc.”

Picard made a soft, low pitched whine. Q’s hands working his muscles were pure _bliss._ For a moment he wondered whether he had some of his old magic back, to be able to make him feel like _this-_ “I...you shouldn’t...it’s...oh...” Words escaped him, his limbs and brain finally no longer fighting against the man massaging him.

“There we are,” Q said in a soothing voice. “I know you’re a man of duty, but even officers must indulge in hedonism every now and then. Just look at your history’s Captain Kirk. Or even your very own first officer.”

“Mmm,” Picard hummed, completely docile. There could be a red alert right now and Picard wouldn’t even hear it.

“I’d be able to do a more thorough job if you lie down on your abdomen,” Q suggested.

“Mm? Oh, yes.” Normally Picard would’ve sputtered and balked about this level of intimacy between himself and the formerly omniscient entity, but right now he was in a very suggestable state. He slid onto his bed, stomach down, and Q bent over him, molding every muscle like a potter manipulates clay. “Lower, l-lower,” he uttered. “To the right... _ahh_ , that’s the spot that’s giving me trouble.”

“Yes, I can feel a knot here,” said Q. He looked at Picard. “Is this making you feel better?”

“ _Yes_ ,” groaned Picard. He lifted his head. “You know those simple joys we were talking about?”

“I recall.”

“This is one of them.”

Q smiled proudly. “I knew I’d catch on to this whole ‘being human’ thing eventually!”

Picard’s eyes opened. “Q...this is it!” he gasped in realization.

“This is what?”

“What?”

“ _This!_ You could be our ship’s masseuse! We could set you up with a table in Mot’s barbershop! I’m sure plenty of officers would be glad for your treatment after a rigorous away mission.”

“You really think so?” Q said.

“Oh, if you make them feel _half_ as good as you’re making me feel, _ahh_...oh, I think this is your niche, Q.”

Q lit up. “But I do this for _fun!_ You’re telling me work can be fun?!”

“Of course! Most people pursue a career in what they’re passionate about! I myself was very nearly an anthropologist. It’s just one of my hobbies now because I felt Starfleet was my calling.”

“It’s a fortunate thing too,” Q said with a smile. “If you hadn’t felt that way, we may have never encountered each other.”

Picard looked at him and slowly sat up. “Q, be honest with me,” he said softly. “Did you choose to become human, to be sent here...because of me?”

Q actually blushed. “No...I actually chose this place...because I had nowhere else to go,” he admitted. “I don’t think I would have survived anywhere else.”

Picard deflated slightly. “Oh. I see,” he said.

“But also...” Q looked away from him. “I really did want to be here most of all. On this ship...” His eyes met Picard’s. “With you,” he added quietly.

Picard swallowed. He stood up. “You know that feeling you couldn’t quite place earlier. I think I know what it was. And I think you do as well.”

Q rolled his eyes. “Oh please, Jean-Luc, this isn’t one of your harlequin holonovels.”

“I thought you liked adventure and romance,” Picard couldn’t help but tease.

Q smirked. “Perhaps I’ve learned to enjoy the simpler side of humanity.”

“So that’s not a dirty word anymore, then?”

“Well if it describes you, then...it can’t be so terrible.”

Picard smiled. He raised himself and dropped a soft kiss on Q’s lips.

Q blinked in slight surprise, then smiled. “Another simple joy, Jean-Luc?”

Picard chuckled. “Oh believe me, darling, there’s absolutely _nothing_ simple about this.”

Q pulled him forward and kissed him again eagerly. Their warm bare chests pressed together and Picard could feel a very human heart beating against his.

Maybe Q had made a place for himself after all.


End file.
